


Anaverse

by NullBubby



Category: Kirby (Video Games)
Genre: Intervening Flashback, Macro/Micro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:08:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27958151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NullBubby/pseuds/NullBubby
Summary: It's the final moment, and all is as cold as could be imagined. The time is set, the plan perfect for the native's encounter...She just doesn't feel like following self-protocol for once.
Kudos: 6





	Anaverse

_“You truly wish to redeem yourself?”_

There stood the coldest air. The room sighed in exhaust, trembled, struggled to fathom how one could remain so still in such a lacking environment. On the deepest linings, a computer could’ve been heard in tremendous distinctness, something of the higher subordinates struggling their efforts over actions meant the most for the prevailing moment.

Another ringing came, and the remote beeped in an instant. The ground clanged to the sole feet arrived to its surface. Burst up, the claw groped somewhere to the air, paleing all other strength of a sole, indecisive stance raising grip in the slightest. A step placed—any other ground would’ve quaked beneath. A sigh came, then another button was pressed.

_“Yes, sir,” she almost pleaded to herself. “I will not disappoint again, please, allow me one more chance to dispose of this impediment.”_

The mask glared as a haze. Cautiously, it and its host searched the room for nothing, a far breath its only discovery, and the same command was sent. Again, no effect, and she faced it finally, gave it increasingly lacking space until the direct control panel became visible. Her hand stuck down and toward its gate, picked a few switches, and set it back to regulation, letting its face back up to the enormous red carpet looming without threat. It again stepped, reached forward, then turned to face and left, finally.

_An imitation of a sigh came. “Yes, I’ve heard this already. Enough damage has been caused already, and any more of the sort closer would require major substitutions, if not temporary downtime of operations. We can’t afford this slowdown any longer.”_

Then was the second notice, and quietude filled the room. Once more, her hair darted back with little restraint, but mind was elsewhere in the time before it spent returned. Certainly, it was a bold move attempting a total shutdown again, but whether risky was debatable—laughable, if her position would’ve allowed it.

With the cyborg finalized, everything had been set for encounter. A final moment when the door would burst apart, blast out its indifferent sight of an elevator and its only cohort. A time strayed so far enough already, only imminent to head a new clash setting the office surrounding. Why such a locale must’ve been offered for the due reveal would’ve never been known, but regardless of time wasted wreaking the very supports of the company, the decision was final.

_“Sir, I insist. My methods have been doubtful in the past, but I wish to present my newest enhancement.”_

Another ding. All stated was the same chill, and her outfit adjusted upon first touch.

_“Please, have a look,” she said, pulling the remote and reaching her thumb, only for both to be interrupted by a wave._

It repeated harder. Her hand retreated to a scrunch.

_“No, no, you’ve showed me enough.” He let another breath. “An explanation would suffice.”_

_“Oh... alright.” She edged toward the enormous desk ahead, a slight deal to the side before recalling lack of any other presence. “I have made some additional preparations to the cyborg I have presented previously. Analytics have displayed massive increases to dexterity, agility, and velocity in all regards, and a few tests have already been undergone. Its strength—”_

_She silenced herself at the palm._

The final warning. Her hand jutted back to momentary standstill, fingers groping deeper into herself while her face almost shivered. The lower grasp reached to inventory to find its position, readied itself back to her side, and a section of hair tapped the air without leaving the rest of its equally flashy habitat.

_“Please, hold the nonsense. Just... give me the statistics.”_

_“Of course.”_

_She bowed, drew a tablet from herself. A few taps against its screen made way to an enormous list of numbers, slid to about the center of the table before backing to her prior stature. Her eyes edged toward the floor._

_“And the final probability?”_

_“Oh, m-my apologies, sir. All data used for the experimentation has been speculation. The best managed have been the remote-androids based on the pink native.”_

_He resorted to another delve into his palm._

A speck of dirt flew off her attire. The empty aura said nothing of its course, though her face succumbed to its misdirection many times over, never leaving refuge of a slight tilt to the ground.

_“We don’t have time for this,” he sighed, burying his head deeper into his hand. “I have my company to address in this state of crisis. As it stands, I cannot simultaneously remove this threat and micromanage every littlest misconduct leading to this very moment.”_

_“So—”_

_“Yes, yes.” He was evidently exhausted from some unknown. “The opportunity is not mine for taking.”_

_She almost broke position right there, almost squished her hands together and warped eyes to a squint. Had the finger not kept her shushed, she’d have been long dismissed._

_“However.”_

A vibration arose. Her normally perfectly pale face let its first heat, and before any else recognized of anywhere, a single weep of her cheek. She wiped the sweat and doused it somewhere off to the floor ahead.

_“There are no second chances from this moment onward. If you are to do something, do not eye the risks.”_

The elevator was almost half-risen.

Her hand fell for whatever reason, found its way to a first tremble since anything in recollection. More tears dampened her face, her eyes spared the load, and what almost seemed a brick entered gaze. It... was no more than a few buttons. Simplest in almost any form she’d seen, it looked like a foreigner.

Halfway point...

The box was set back to eternal confine. Instead, both empty grips snuck around, only until touching did she recognize what was being done. For an instant it was considered to reorganize the remote back to hand, let herself to the sidelines while a clash raged on, but...

Three-quarters.

A cold metal entered grip. Unset, she didn’t care. Form turned to face the rear of the office, an alert raging senses, begging to be disabled, but all mattered in the frigid silence was a door.

_“Yes, sir.”_

Lift complete.

_“Another moment.”_

_She’d almost snuck a backing from him._

The gateway stuck, an eternal mess of blurring color. She panted a second, her clasp tightened extremely over the grip—by the time it’d open her accuracy would’ve been far demolished. Another minute passed, then she finally took the time to wipe her forehead clear of nothingness.

_“This native, you’ve spoken of.”_

He’d reached the barrier of automation.

_“Why has it given so much difficulty in the past?”_

Until her next blink, the situation had awakened a halt in time. One look into the empty color of ahead, and she almost couldn’t hear anything from how obnoxious the preset buzzers had been for herself. It was better safe than overthrown, but they stung so much in the second she almost couldn’t press the trigger, put the weight over the obviously clueless determination of expression ahead, but it was only due to pain. Gaze slipped, her hands almost lost clasp, something behind rottered her vision, and the world before blipped, something so immensely puny it wasn’t impossible to tell if her own doing or another employee’s.

She raised the culprit hand to her side, brushing hair unintentionally, and at last took a long stare ahead, where his face was so far lost it didn’t look he was capable of recognizing the point of the trembly blaster distantly ahead.

_“Oh... it...”_

She’d struck an abundance sometime behind. By next great second, her hands had already lingered behind her, eyes loosened another rasp panting and greater tilt of her head. The glimpse was enormous, something of its weight restoring a hint of heat as the carpet grew less and less favorable to the door’s vicinity.

_“It... has been a troublesome foe.”_

_He spun back, switching to a slight lean over the desk. “And?”_

It was impossible she hadn’t ordered the modification. Just a speck back the memory could be seen, something... like herself handing the weapon to a subordinate. Possibly the ground shifting, it was so many layers padded behind obscurity so to not recognize truth right before her—a stare into such glaring contrast of regular greys and deeper greys the floor.

It was impossible _she_ hadn’t been the very one baffled by the existence of something specifically designated by herself.

 _“Sir.” Her fingers broke position. “It holds power yet undocumented. This threat could never have been expected_ —”

_“And that means you still cannot adapt?”_

_Her glance fell._

The air’s weight brought her to the slightest crouch, his face still peeking to the sides in utter confusion at the looming shadow just before him. A breath escaped, shattered his balance as he stumbled back, to the ground, and he looked up at her, finally.

His eye was almost indistinguishable from her distance.

_“I have heard word of this native. Its expression is laughable, it’s too small to ever hurt any more than an employee, and its body is perhaps some of the softest matter ever witnessed.”_

_She let her eyes seep back a bit, begged them to take a prolonged blink, though all managed was a readjusting of hair. The hand returned to posture with all else’s expectation._

It wasn’t until maybe the length of her finger between her eyes and the diminutive specks ahead could any more than his body color be recognized. Another sigh fell, and he winced—almost unnoticeably. By the time he’d wiped his eyes open again, an enormous grip had dominated what little light remained beneath her head, but all left for him to do was widen expression.

Despite how gently she’d pinched, it seemed like any more pressure would make him burst.

_“It’s short enough to fit an employee’s recharger. Tell me why there has been so much issue.”_

His squirms ultimately led to nothing until being set down on something at least softer than the ground. He rubbed his head immediately, face still bolted shut, and fell forward, wincing every few moments at how much pain he’d succumbed to. Still, the scene miniaturized in her palm was beyond unnatural, even hallucinatory, but she couldn’t dare break stiffness to prove otherwise.

_She awaited a good many seconds for lacking expectation. “Sir, please understand. I do not have any evidence displaying his feats, but he has held little difficulty in reaching this point. Nothing remotely similar to this has ever occurred in this company’s lifespan.”_

She twitched, suddenly. He fell the slightest bit back to softness, then finally touched his head again and opened his eyes for the first time. A moment above, he stared in disbelief unlike any before.

_“And this could not have been avoided?”_

_There was no point in arguing longer._

_“The workers have never been designed to handle threats of this scale. This is where you come in. You have long proven your worth in combat—nothing designated for training has ever been able to compete you and your armor.”_

_He repeated expressed disappointment. A face flew deeper down._

_“Then a moment into our newest operations, our entire company is at stake.”_

The heat was unnoticeable. Her hand alone must’ve been a radiator, despite lacking knowledge on aftereffects of the alteration. Still, neither moved from position, struggling too hard with breaths to signify much expression. Still, her eye alone held above as a star.

In another blast of air, something suddenly changed. He stood, wobbled on the vast new world no larger than his foot in normal terms, and backed until opposite her knuckles. In a moment he was brought closer, destroying his progress with another collapse. One blink looked enough to send him helpless again.

The mist of his presence was gone in another moment she idled the seized opportunity, leaving just a brief orb of hair fluttering by view. She recoiled at the such closed appearance, somehow not managing so much a touch as eyes again met—one finally conquered states of indifference.

Distance of about hands’ closed in interminable seconds, but he flapped right by the spread plateau set far beneath him. Color continued clearing the gap until her eyes were forced shut, then again for length in the interlude. Something in back might have been the one reminding herself of the threat succumbing to, the most powerful native reduced to no larger than a fingertip, and the presence before soon shifted to an insect as she slapped the air forward.

He was limp, trembling next she looked. Honesty let its own sigh as she started off some other direction, readied another blinding darkness above the crash site in a moment as he faced the ground. A tip would’ve brushed him hadn’t he flopped his feet back vaguely upright, eyes tilting all around until recognizing what shadow had again loomed over him.

He looked up to a mere squint, then scuttled upright. With a short dusting, he walked a good ten seconds off the ground’s blackness, to a grey barely brighter, and puffed himself back up, to shortest level of her crouched head in another eternity. She stretched upright, him never failing prolonged, extensive effort in flailing toward, and he struggled through exhaustion until the bottom of her face. The sweat over him was almost visible just before her soon displayed hand caught the brief weight.

_“It is puny,” he repeated._

With another great moment passed, a subtle gaze into the face of a titan, he finally appeared ready to conquer standing. Her breath alone was close enough to be felt back over her cheeks, but somehow he trailed the goal of whatever, past the hurricane breaching regular comfort, past the narrow gasp as he lifted off again. She’d lost him by his next whimper.

_“It is far too weak to even dent our magnificent constructs.”_

The top of her hair tingled, and a giggle failed to constrain itself. He tried again what could’ve only been his hardest attempt at physical damage, soon resorting to the tiniest, sucking breeze of maybe a strand or two of his endless body color. Tried and failed, her hand stuck just beneath her eyes until the inexplicable giddiness was let off.

_“It couldn’t withstand any more than a compression without falling.”_

She groped for an instant before finding what to squish again. Letting herself a moment to notice, she could almost feel his squirming if making the absolute greatest effort to disregard, but best not to let him the uncertainty of safety. She prepared a drop above the sole safe surface anywhere around, face burning off the excess reminders around, then suddenly stopped herself.

It was... almost reassuring to see him struggling so helplessly between two fingers alone. Not even how unbearably he’d be aching despite it all—what little of his face revealed a struggling mouth, maybe a tip of an eyelid she just couldn’t resist failing. A look behind, to the side, all around the knowingly vanished room, and he was finally let just a moment of distant longing before she’d be sure to remind him of his last moments.

She tickled her cheek a few more moments before nearly collapsing herself. More than anything her hands could’ve told, he was incredibly soft, but precautions were necessary. By next her throat cleared she stared into him just as seen thrice prior, if only a bit more tilt to her head.

“My apologies.”

He smiled, unable to offset his own stamping. Regardless of his position, he looked almost... dependent, in such a state.

_“The job is yours,” he said after a sigh._

_Her eyes burst confines. “S-Sir, you mean it?”_

_“Don’t make me question my decision.”_

The table dampened view. Almost, she could see herself standing just before it, hair readjusted one last time before the still-obscured chair swiveled around. Nothing was stopping her from taking another look at the unset tablet there, but...

_“Sir, you have my gratitude for allowing me this position. This threat will be eliminated by my return.”_

There were some more pressing matters.

_“One last thing.”_

_She turned from the door decorated beside by pots and fitted plants._

The elevator neared by the moment, a light grin beaming before her every instant her face grabbed just barely downward. By what lacking inertia he somehow existed on her hand, she didn’t mind—subconsciously, she was even a bit pleased by the result. In the last stretch off the carpet, she couldn’t help but squint with some odd glee. After all, he _was_ awfully resilient.

_“Don’t disappoint me, Susie.”_

The door finally dispersed back to stiffness, behind in the chamber’s remnants lying solely a rather inexpensive vase gazed in so stilly on the experience.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a whole year since my first encounter with fanfiction. (also 298 days since I created this account but dang friggit it's close enough to 300) Even still, I can remember the exact image search that led me down the eternal path leading to here.
> 
> Then still, it took a couple months until I accessed my first "true" delve into writing. A while's passed, and I can say with certainty I've enjoyed a buncha' the stuff I've done since then—battlin' bots, rocking fossils, platforming, panicking, bloxing, blasting, and most of all building all this here stuff I've done in writing.
> 
> Also I promise this has everything to do with my first encounter with fanfiction.
> 
> To another few months of my (hopefully continued) efforts in writing, I'll leave it off:  
>  _ahem_  
> 
> 
> "Bigger is better?"


End file.
